I encountered one of these people yesterday in the supermarket. I'm on the pasta aisle and I start smelling, faintly, this odor that's a strange cross of locker room, skunk musk, and forest clearing (early spring). Maybe with a small bit of Autumnal breeze/burnt leaves blended in, and a faint whiff of river carp. And it just keeps getting stronger and stronger but I can't see where it's coming from. And what I'm thinking right then is that I've heard about how people sometimes experience strange smells right before they have a stroke or something, and so my hands are gripping the shopping cart and I'm wondering, is this it? Am I about to die? And then, suddenly, a 20-something guy with one of those chin strap goatees and a muscle shirt with armholes that go down to his waist turns onto the far end of the aisle. And as the scent cloud wafted ahead of him and engulfed me, I was so grateful to see that it was coming from him, that I wasn't about to collapse from a stroke. And right then, in that moment, standing there with my shopping cart on the cold, white tiles, as the life I'd thought I was about to lose was handed back to me, like some tiny, perfectly wrapped gift, it was almost as if I was smelling the most beautiful scent in the world. Like the castaway who'd long given up hope and then awoke one morning from a bright fever dream, washed up on some white-sand shore. I wondered, on the drive home, smelling that man's lingering presence in my clothes, whether that's the basic strategy of the man who bathes in cologne. For nothing is more beautiful that what you first see after escaping death's door.

I went to a New Years party with a ladyfriend of mine once. She had put a ton of hairspray on (why yes,we were both native New Jerseyans), especially on her bangs to make them stick out over her forhead(she really looked quite good).

She was leaning over a table to get some hors d'oeuvres, and got a little too close to candle and herbangs went up in flames. Fortunately, I had was close enough that I was able to blow out the fire beforethe rest of her head went up, but the sight of the front of her hair on fire stays with me to this day.

Pocket Ninja:I encountered one of these people yesterday in the supermarket. I'm on the pasta aisle and I start smelling, faintly, this odor that's a strange cross of locker room, skunk musk, and forest clearing (early spring). Maybe with a small bit of Autumnal breeze/burnt leaves blended in, and a faint whiff of river carp. And it just keeps getting stronger and stronger but I can't see where it's coming from. And what I'm thinking right then is that I've heard about how people sometimes experience strange smells right before they have a stroke or something, and so my hands are gripping the shopping cart and I'm wondering, is this it? Am I about to die? And then, suddenly, a 20-something guy with one of those chin strap goatees and a muscle shirt with armholes that go down to his waist turns onto the far end of the aisle. And as the scent cloud wafted ahead of him and engulfed me, I was so grateful to see that it was coming from him, that I wasn't about to collapse from a stroke. And right then, in that moment, standing there with my shopping cart on the cold, white tiles, as the life I'd thought I was about to lose was handed back to me, like some tiny, perfectly wrapped gift, it was almost as if I was smelling the most beautiful scent in the world. Like the castaway who'd long given up hope and then awoke one morning from a bright fever dream, washed up on some white-sand shore. I wondered, on the drive home, smelling that man's lingering presence in my clothes, whether that's the basic strategy of the man who bathes in cologne. For nothing is more beautiful that what you first see after escaping death's door.

Pocket Ninja:I encountered one of these people yesterday in the supermarket. I'm on the pasta aisle and I start smelling, faintly, this odor that's a strange cross of locker room, skunk musk, and forest clearing (early spring). Maybe with a small bit of Autumnal breeze/burnt leaves blended in, and a faint whiff of river carp. And it just keeps getting stronger and stronger but I can't see where it's coming from. And what I'm thinking right then is that I've heard about how people sometimes experience strange smells right before they have a stroke or something, and so my hands are gripping the shopping cart and I'm wondering, is this it? Am I about to die? And then, suddenly, a 20-something guy with one of those chin strap goatees and a muscle shirt with armholes that go down to his waist turns onto the far end of the aisle. And as the scent cloud wafted ahead of him and engulfed me, I was so grateful to see that it was coming from him, that I wasn't about to collapse from a stroke. And right then, in that moment, standing there with my shopping cart on the cold, white tiles, as the life I'd thought I was about to lose was handed back to me, like some tiny, perfectly wrapped gift, it was almost as if I was smelling the most beautiful scent in the world. Like the castaway who'd long given up hope and then awoke one morning from a bright fever dream, washed up on some white-sand shore. I wondered, on the drive home, smelling that man's lingering presence in my clothes, whether that's the basic strategy of the man who bathes in cologne. For nothing is more beautiful that what you first see after escaping death's door.

Pocket Ninja:I encountered one of these people yesterday in the supermarket. I'm on the pasta aisle and I start smelling, faintly, this odor that's a strange cross of locker room, skunk musk, and forest clearing (early spring). Maybe with a small bit of Autumnal breeze/burnt leaves blended in, and a faint whiff of river carp. And it just keeps getting stronger and stronger but I can't see where it's coming from. And what I'm thinking right then is that I've heard about how people sometimes experience strange smells right before they have a stroke or something, and so my hands are gripping the shopping cart and I'm wondering, is this it? Am I about to die? And then, suddenly, a 20-something guy with one of those chin strap goatees and a muscle shirt with armholes that go down to his waist turns onto the far end of the aisle. And as the scent cloud wafted ahead of him and engulfed me, I was so grateful to see that it was coming from him, that I wasn't about to collapse from a stroke. And right then, in that moment, standing there with my shopping cart on the cold, white tiles, as the life I'd thought I was about to lose was handed back to me, like some tiny, perfectly wrapped gift, it was almost as if I was smelling the most beautiful scent in the world. Like the castaway who'd long given up hope and then awoke one morning from a bright fever dream, washed up on some white-sand shore. I wondered, on the drive home, smelling that man's lingering presence in my clothes, whether that's the basic strategy of the man who bathes in cologne. For nothing is more beautiful that what you first see after escaping death's door.

Okay so I didn't read the article but just felt like sharing my own two cents about people who wear/put on WAY too much perfume (or cologne).

There are at least 2 people that I can think of in the place where I work that do the above. I try not to stand next to them for too long because I can barely breathe with them next to me. Gives me headaches! :(

Pocket Ninja:I encountered one of these people yesterday in the supermarket. I'm on the pasta aisle and I start smelling, faintly, this odor that's a strange cross of locker room, skunk musk, and forest clearing (early spring). Maybe with a small bit of Autumnal breeze/burnt leaves blended in, and a faint whiff of river carp. And it just keeps getting stronger and stronger but I can't see where it's coming from. And what I'm thinking right then is that I've heard about how people sometimes experience strange smells right before they have a stroke or something, and so my hands are gripping the shopping cart and I'm wondering, is this it? Am I about to die? And then, suddenly, a 20-something guy with one of those chin strap goatees and a muscle shirt with armholes that go down to his waist turns onto the far end of the aisle. And as the scent cloud wafted ahead of him and engulfed me, I was so grateful to see that it was coming from him, that I wasn't about to collapse from a stroke. And right then, in that moment, standing there with my shopping cart on the cold, white tiles, as the life I'd thought I was about to lose was handed back to me, like some tiny, perfectly wrapped gift, it was almost as if I was smelling the most beautiful scent in the world. Like the castaway who'd long given up hope and then awoke one morning from a bright fever dream, washed up on some white-sand shore. I wondered, on the drive home, smelling that man's lingering presence in my clothes, whether that's the basic strategy of the man who bathes in cologne. For nothing is more beautiful that what you first see after escaping death's door.

ashinmytomatoes:Pocket Ninja: I encountered one of these people yesterday in the supermarket. I'm on the pasta aisle and I start smelling, faintly, this odor that's a strange cross of locker room, skunk musk, and forest clearing (early spring). Maybe with a small bit of Autumnal breeze/burnt leaves blended in, and a faint whiff of river carp. And it just keeps getting stronger and stronger but I can't see where it's coming from. And what I'm thinking right then is that I've heard about how people sometimes experience strange smells right before they have a stroke or something, and so my hands are gripping the shopping cart and I'm wondering, is this it? Am I about to die? And then, suddenly, a 20-something guy with one of those chin strap goatees and a muscle shirt with armholes that go down to his waist turns onto the far end of the aisle. And as the scent cloud wafted ahead of him and engulfed me, I was so grateful to see that it was coming from him, that I wasn't about to collapse from a stroke. And right then, in that moment, standing there with my shopping cart on the cold, white tiles, as the life I'd thought I was about to lose was handed back to me, like some tiny, perfectly wrapped gift, it was almost as if I was smelling the most beautiful scent in the world. Like the castaway who'd long given up hope and then awoke one morning from a bright fever dream, washed up on some white-sand shore. I wondered, on the drive home, smelling that man's lingering presence in my clothes, whether that's the basic strategy of the man who bathes in cologne. For nothing is more beautiful that what you first see after escaping death's door.

Best one in a while, if I don't stop reading halfway through to check if it's a pocket ninja post, it means it's really good.

Pocket Ninja:I encountered one of these people yesterday in the supermarket. I'm on the pasta aisle and I start smelling, faintly, this odor that's a strange cross of locker room, skunk musk, and forest clearing (early spring). Maybe with a small bit of Autumnal breeze/burnt leaves blended in, and a faint whiff of river carp. And it just keeps getting stronger and stronger but I can't see where it's coming from. And what I'm thinking right then is that I've heard about how people sometimes experience strange smells right before they have a stroke or something, and so my hands are gripping the shopping cart and I'm wondering, is this it? Am I about to die? And then, suddenly, a 20-something guy with one of those chin strap goatees and a muscle shirt with armholes that go down to his waist turns onto the far end of the aisle. And as the scent cloud wafted ahead of him and engulfed me, I was so grateful to see that it was coming from him, that I wasn't about to collapse from a stroke. And right then, in that moment, standing there with my shopping cart on the cold, white tiles, as the life I'd thought I was about to lose was handed back to me, like some tiny, perfectly wrapped gift, it was almost as if I was smelling the most beautiful scent in the world. Like the castaway who'd long given up hope and then awoke one morning from a bright fever dream, washed up on some white-sand shore. I wondered, on the drive home, smelling that man's lingering presence in my clothes, whether that's the basic strategy of the man who bathes in cologne. For nothing is more beautiful that what you first see after escaping death's door.

I swear, Pocket Ninja is probably one of Drew's bar pals, a secret Lawrence Ferlinghetti who appears to be hammered at the end of the bar with a lap top, just keeping to his or herself, just eating peanuts and occasionally saying Yeah, to something Drew says.Somewhere in Kentucky, there is this James Dalton of the keyboard just leaning over in a bar stool, quietly nodding and then going to the next only just greenlit thread.

doglover:Robert Marshall, 34, from Sheffield, was with friends at Long John's Bar in Great Yarmouth in April, when he flicked a lighter at his friend.

Plus:Smelly Pirate Hooker: He was fined, not jailed, dumbmitter.

Also:FTFA: Unknown to Marshall, the 34-year-old victim, had been doused in aftershave.So tfa doesn't say the guy "went to a club wearing too much cologne." It sounds more like one of his buddies poured a bunch of Eau de Stank from the bathroom vending machine over him.

So bottom line: we need a Failed Headline of the Year category. Subby effed literally every point on this one.

And is there even a point anymore in trying to shame the mods who approved this? Or the admins who let it happen again and again and again?

My boss used to wear so much cologne (Canoe I believe it was) to cover his smoking, you could literally smell his wake from walking through the office... And god forbid he use your desk phone and you forget to wipe it down... I've had more than one ear smell like him all day. *shudder*

The roomate has a friend that drowned himself in axe. Told her he wasnt allowed in if he was wearing that shiat after I made her get the stink off the couch. It was such a bad smell I could smell it in my room with the door closed.

groppet:The roomate has a friend that drowned himself in axe. Told her he wasnt allowed in if he was wearing that shiat after I made her get the stink off the couch. It was such a bad smell I could smell it in my room with the door closed.

ongbok:groppet: The roomate has a friend that drowned himself in axe. Told her he wasnt allowed in if he was wearing that shiat after I made her get the stink off the couch. It was such a bad smell I could smell it in my room with the door closed.

Your roommate has middle school friends that she invites over?

They may as well be in middle school the way they act. The guys more than the girls